


The Mercy Seat

by RembrandtsWife



Category: Dogma (1999)
Genre: Alan Rickman/Emma Thompson, Angels, Christianity, F/M, God as feminine, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two angels who guard the mercy seat and mediate the Divine Presence. Metatron is only one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mercy Seat

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in 2006, after brooding over the movie Dogma for several years. It is based, vaguely, on Jewish/Kabbalistic ideas about the cherubim who guard the mercy seat upon the ark of the covenant, and on theology about angels, masculinity and femininity, and the image of God. But the important thing to keep in mind is that Metatron was played by Alan Rickman, and in this story his partner Sandalphon is played by Emma Thompson.

"How did it go?"

Her face was grave with concern. He shrugged, letting his human dress slip away, reverting to the old familiar robes in which an angel could stretch out its wings and be comfortable.

"All right, I suppose. A lot of mortals got killed. Funny how that seems to happen every time She wants to get closer to them."

She clucked her tongue. "Poor things, they just self-destruct in the face of so much power."

"Too right. But Bartleby and Loki have their second chance. So does the Last Scion, and those fool prophets, and even the Church." He sat down, sighing, and spread out his wings to full extension. The glow that came from the Metatron as he relaxed in the presence of his partner would have made the holiest saint go blind. But his partner Sandalphon, sitting over a cup of tea, was a quiet pool of shadow that absorbed the brightness and yet made it brighter.

"It's been a long time since I've been Down There," Sandalphon mused. "What's it like?"

Metatron slouched in his seat and scratched at his hair. "Bloody boring. Five hundred channels and nothing on any of them. Too many dirty smelly machines. I thought the dodo was a bad idea, you know, but that doesn't mean I'm glad that it's extinct!" Metatron snorted. "Like to see them have to replace what they kill off."

"They're not ready for that yet." She sipped her tea, peering at her partner. "You look tired.'

"The mortals tire me out. They always have." He glanced up, his heavy lids rising and falling. "You'd do better at dealing with them. Don't know why She won't send you."

She smiled. "Ah, but I'm not the Voice of God." She sipped her tea again, her smile fading. "I'm the Listener. And I don't like what I've been hearing."

Metatron sat up. "From whom?"

Sandalphon looked away. "Just here and there. Julian, if you must know. And Hildegard, and Martha."

"What? What did they say?" Martha, that busybody, he thought to himself.

"That they've forgotten me. They've forgotten the Listener at the Throne of God." She set down the teacup with a little bang. "They've even forgotten *Her*! They were surprised by her appearance. They think God is only a man!"

There were tears running down her cheeks now. Metatron reached out and grasped her arm. "My love--that's why She blessed the Scion. At last there'll be a Daughter--at last mortals will really *know*--"

"I'm not sure." Sandalphon rose and began pacing the shining floor. "It will be so hard for her. For the Scion's Daughter. Do you have any idea how much harder it will be than for a Son? After two thousand years? I told Her to do it sooner, I told Her not to wait so long--"

Her shoulders were shaking, her dark sweet wings drooping, and her voice broke. Metatron rose, went to his partner, and took her in his arms. "My love. It will all work out for the best, as it always does. Doesn't it?" He brushed at her tears with the tip of a wing.

"I don't know any more. I only know they've forgotten me, and how shall they find mercy if they see only one angel at the mercy seat?"

Metatron pulled her closer, held her tighter--and felt a response in his spiritual form that he hadn't known for millenia.

"My dear--"

She felt it too. Drawing back, she reached out to touch his body, then her own. Male. Female. Responding with erotic desire.

"My dear! It seems She's given us a second chance, too." She laughed, though the sound had tears in it. "Perhaps if we can make love again, the mortals will remember there are always two angels watching over the mercy seat."


End file.
